


Happy Birthday, Dad

by SomethingBeyondReach



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingBeyondReach/pseuds/SomethingBeyondReach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kierin can't fight off Blue Oblivion, Jem makes the shot, and Simon is a good body shield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Dad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theohsogloriousfart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theohsogloriousfart/gifts).



_Run. Run!_

I have to move faster. My nerves are pulsing and my vision is getting hazy. I'm stumbling over my own feet as I fight for control. I can feel the tall, uncut grass biting at my calves through my jeans.

_You have to move, Kierin._

I'm losing it. I can hear voices in the distance, but it's as if cotton has been shoved in my ears.

_Get away from here. Now!_

My eyes won't focus anymore, but I can make out familiar shapes getting closer. The cemetery.

 _Not here, Kierin_.

I force my legs over the little barrier and fall to my knees. I can hear people, lots of them. They're so close I can smell it.

_Get a hold of yourself!_

I'm so hungry. How long has it been since I've had anything to eat? Too long.

 _This isn't you_.

The voices are much louder now, but I still can't tell what they're saying. My body is heavy and my limbs feel like lead, but I force myself to stand up. There are so many people here, but I can't make out any faces.

_These are your friends!_

God, I'm so hungry.

_Your family!_

Someone is moving towards me, but I can't tell who. Someone else is shouting, but I don't know who it's coming from.

_Kierin, stop. You can't do this._

The shouting grows louder as the person gets closer. My body aches with hunger. My muscles are tense, ready to strike.

_You have to fight it. You're not a killer._

I've lost it. My body flies forward, pinning my prey to the ground. They're oddly submissive. They don't even try to fight me. They just lie there, whispering something to me.

_Stop it! You know him!_

My teeth sink into his flesh easily, with almost no resistance. God, it feels so good. So good I don't pay any mind to the screeches around me, or the hurried footsteps all over the place.

I take another bite, ripping a larger chunk off this time. My fingers claw at their clothing, trying to obtain easier access.

_You're not yourself._

I savor the feeling of warm blood sliding down my dry throat before sinking my teeth in again. I just wish the screaming would stop.

I can feel blood running down my face, but I can't bring myself to care. Having successfully ripped most of their upper clothing off, I move downwards. The flesh slides off the bones so easily, and it practically melts in my mouth.

_What are you doing?_

Someone's on me. They're trying to pry me off my meal. How rude. I try to fight them off, but they're much stronger than me. They pull me to my feet much too quickly and I stumble over.

As I'm falling, someone screams particularly loud and then there's a gunshot. It's quiet as my skull smacks against the headstone. My body goes limp and I groan at the pain. I can see clearly now, despite it being black around the edges. I can make out sounds when the ringing in my ears stops.

I look to my feet, trying to move my head as little as possible and see Simon lying there motionless. Jem is running towards us, tears streaming down her face. I look over to the person I had previously been ripping apart before my vision goes black and I lose consciousness.

_Dad?_

 

* * *

 

 

I lay in my bed unable to sleep. They keep haunting me. Memories of that day. The day I killed my own father. The day my sister killed my boyfriend. The day both my father and boyfriend died trying to protect me.

I sigh deeply, rolling over onto my side. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force my body to sleep. It's pointless. All of it. I haven't been able to sleep properly since then. I haven't been able to paint, either. I haven't  been able to do much of anything.

I look over at the clock lighting up my room. It reads 1:27 AM. Today is March 18th. My birthday. It was Dad's, too. The only thing me and my dad ever shared was our birthday.

He's not here this time, and I only have myself to blame.

I turn my head to the wall where I know his portrait is. Right between Simon and Amy. They're all gone. And it's all because of me.

I let out another sigh before dragging myself to my feet. Careful not to make too much noise, I slip down the hall and into Jem's room. She's sleeping peacefully, her PTSD finally getting better. I smile softly and lean down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, standing up and walking around her bed to her nightstand. I open the bottom drawer, and let my sense of touch guide me in the dark. I feel cold metal against my fingers, and wrap them around the sought-after object. I take one last loving glance at Jem before quietly closing the door and sneaking off back into my own room.

I sit back on the bed, turning the revolver in my hands. It's the same one that Jem used on Simon. My hands shake as I flip the safety off. It makes sense that it should end this way. That's the way I went out before, after all.

Sobs rack my body as I press the barrel against my temple. It's cold against my skin, just like the blades were last time. I let out a shaky breath I didn't know I was holding, and blink away the tears as my eyes fall on my wall again. I look to Rick and feel a tear slide down my face. I let them fall freely as my eyes move to Jem, and then my mother. I try not to think of them too much, knowing it'll hurt more than it does already. I whimper a bit when my eyes land on Amy, and then on Simon. I look down at my feet, wiping my tears with my free hand.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to steel myself. Before I pull the trigger I look to my father one last time and let out in a small, shaky voice, "Happy Birthday, Dad."

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr.
> 
> the-lord-of-the-lamps.tumblr.com


End file.
